


Annoyance and Disappointment

by bainel



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Love Confessions, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bainel/pseuds/bainel
Summary: "They were deafened by the cacophony of sounds. The heavy breaths. The rustling of the bedsheet beneath them. The rushing of blood in their ears. Bodies moving against each other. Sighs, and whines, and moans flying past their lips."
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 27
Kudos: 83





	1. Lying To You

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was inspired by three songs by one artist that put together create a quite nice story.  
> Hope you'll enjoy it!

_“I can see in your eyes that you mean it_

_I can feel in your arms that it's true_

_And though I just heard myself say it,_

_Baby, I'm lying to you”_

~ ‘lying to you’ by Keaton Henson

*****

To an outsider, the dark bedroom might give off an impression of being completely quiet. But it wasn’t. Not to them. They were deafened by the cacophony of sounds. The heavy breaths. The rustling of the bedsheet beneath them. The rushing of blood in their ears. Bodies moving against each other. Sighs, and whines, and moans flying past their lips. A quiet squeaking of an old wooden bed, matching the movements of their bodies. An occasional laugh lost somewhere between the sheets inside their little, private bubble. A barely audible giggle that both of them would deny in the light of day, swallowed by hungry lips.

She looked down at the woman beneath her. With her red hair in complete disarray on a snow-white pillow. With her bare chest heaving and covered with a delicious blush of arousal. With her alabaster skin glistening with sweat. Her green eyes hooded, dark and hungry and full of _want_. Some tiny part of her was weirdly satisfied with the thought that she was allowed to see the ever-composed cold Zelda Spellman in such a state. That she was the one responsible for it. Wanting to make her look even more disheveled, she leaned down to capture Zelda’s lips between hers, feeling the warmth emanating from the other woman’s body spreading like waves on her own skin. Soon enough they both forgot how to breathe but they did not notice nor did they care.

Soft hands pushed her gently and before she knew it she was laying on her back with Zelda straddling her hips. Hands found hands on the white pillow above her head; fingers intertwined, pinning her to the mattress. A curtain of copper hair fell around their faces, shielding them both from the outside world, making Lilith’s chest swell with an unidentified feeling that she did not want to examine closely at that moment.

A wicked smile appeared on the redhead’s lips and Lilith felt a fresh wave of arousal running down her spine. She craned her neck to wipe that grin off of Zelda’s face with her own mouth but the woman pulled back out of Lilith’s reach with a small chuckle. Lilith let out a frustrated huff.

“Zelda.”

“Yes?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently, “What is it?”

"Stop playing."

"But you like it when I play with you," she purred into her ear. A warning growl died down in Lilith’s throat transforming into a soft gasp the moment Zelda lowered her head and closed her lips around her earlobe. She wanted to reply, but the words got lost somewhere on the way between her brain and her lips, the moment Zelda’s mouth traveled from her ear to her jaw and then down her neck.

The feeling of wet lips pressed to the sensitive spot on her skin was enough to turn her brain into a puddle. How did they ever find themselves in this situation, she wondered? How did _she_ ㅡMadam Satan, Mother of Demons, the Dawn of Doom, and all of the other stupid titles humans have given her over the centuriesㅡend up in an affair with _Zelda Spellman_ , of all people?

Her orders were pretty straight-forward, get Sabrina Spellman to sign her name in the Book of the Beast. However, that was easier said than done. It proved to be extremely difficult for Lilith to silently guide her in the right direction with a gentle hand on her shoulder and a whisper in her ear. The girl could be extremely dumb at times, blinded by her self-righteousness. By the time the girl signed her name in the Book, Lilith was ready to tear her hair from her scalp and bang her head against the wall. Repeatedly. Or better yet, kill the half-breed and be done with it.

And somewhere in the midst of this whole mess, one particularly irritating day, she had found herself arguing with the Spellman matriarch about the well-being of her niece for what felt like the hundredth time. How did they go from shouting and being at each other’s throats to having sex against the nearest flat surface in Mary Wardwell’s cottageㅡwhich happened to be the tableㅡwas anyone’s guess as good as hers.

However, the fact remained, from that moment on, they kept finding themselves in the same situation. Be it against a wall, a table, a desk, a counter, a floor, even a sink at one point, no matter which flat surface was the closest. It was always rushed, always passionate, always rough. And at the end of every one of those incidents, they behaved the same, every time. Collecting themselves hurriedly, trying to dispose of any evidence that might have revealed what has happened between them to the outside world. Reminding each other firmly that it shall never happen again, knowing it was nothing more than an empty threat.

But slowly their arrangement started to develop into something less rushed, something more conscious. Somewhere in between running around behind Sabrina, kissing Satan’s hooves, trying not to get too tangled in the webs of her own lies, she has found herself consciously seeking out the warmth of Zelda’s body. They started to take their time with each other. No longer finding themselves against walls and such but rather dragging each other by the hand to the nearest bed. They no longer were running away from each other, swearing it was the last time. Instead, they stayed just a minute, just a moment longer in bed, holding on to the other’s body, not wanting to exit their small bubble.

Lilith had no intention of looking closer at what this change could possibly mean. She was happy to ignore the change and pretend there was nothing unusual in it.

But that particular night everything fell apart like a tower built with cards.

Zelda had invited herself over to Mary Wardwell’s cottage that night, seeking out the peace and quiet, away from her family who seemed to be adamant about causing more and more troubles with each passing day.

It came as no surprise to Lilith when one moment they were drinking whiskey in front of the fireplace, talking about one thing or another, and the next moment they had found themselves in Mary’s bedroom, pulling at each other’s clothes, needing to be as close as possible. And now, Zelda was straddling her hips, working on something that could only be a not-so-subtle hickey on Lilith’s neck. She hissed feeling the woman’s teeth on her skin, which only caused Zelda to chuckle and look at her with mischief sparkling in her eyes.

Slowly the mood started to change. She could feel the slow process of lust and desire evaporating into the thin air. She could see Zelda’s face losing the amused look, her smile slowly falling from her face. Mirth in her eyes melting into something else. Something warm. Something she couldn’t quite identify. She was gazing at her with such intensity, such unusual tenderness, Lilith thought she would drown at any given second.

And just like that, the moment was over.

The bubble they were surrounded with seconds ago has burst like a balloon pierced with a sharp needle.

Their faces fell. Both of them not believing in what has just happened. 

She saw the lips move and she heard the words that stumbled past them. Yet she did not believe her own ears, she did not trust her own brain, sure it must have misunderstood something.

But Zelda’s eyes widened with fear, not quite believing her own lips for uttering that one phrase. Her muscles tensing, waiting for Lilith’s reaction. She could almost see the wheels in Zelda’s brain turning and trying to come up with a way to brush the moment off. To write it off as a drunken mind talking. But in the furthest corners of their minds, they both knew the truth.

“Mary,” whispered Zelda, her voice quivering slightly. She cupped Lilith’s cheek with her hand carefully, expecting the woman to bolt away at any moment. And Lilith, who felt as if the woman had punched her in the face, instead of caressing it softly with her thumb, would love to do just that, to push her away from herself. And she would, without a doubt do it, if it wasn’t for the heavy weight suddenly crushing her, sinking her into the mattress, keeping her in place.

There was too little oxygen to go around and Lilith could not breathe. The blood rushing in her ears muffled every other sound. The heart in her chest was beating rapidly, like the wings of a hummingbird trapped in a cage.

She felt her own lips move on their own accord, against her will, as if someone else suddenly took over her body. Panic gripped her heart and an invisible hand squeezed her insides, causing her to feel sick. She heard her own strangled voice as it escaped her own tightened throat.

The words were the same, yet so very different. They both could tell that there was something missing. Something was not right.

In the end, it was not Lilith who had bolted away from Zelda but the other way around. It felt as if the room was suddenly filled with frost. With the warmth of Zelda’s body gone from the bed, she felt goosebumps rising on her skin. Unable to move she watched as Zelda hurriedly collected her clothes, scattered all over the floor, reminding Lilith of the very beginning of their ‘arrangement’. She was sure she saw a glimpse of unshed tears in Zelda’s eyes as she turned in the doorway to look at her one more time before she left.

After a few minutes, Lilith heard the front doors of the cottage shut loudly after the witch. She laid there, motionless, staring at the ceiling, replaying the last minutes in her head. The words were echoing loudly in her head, bouncing off of the insides of her skull.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Where seconds ago there was an unbearable heaviness on top of her chest, now was an emptiness. As if Lilith had missed a step going down the stairs.

She could not believe what has happened. She could not believe the lie she has told. Or rather her lips have uttered for her.

Lilith closed her eyes and brought her hands up, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyelids, until she could see the stars. Everything, anything to get rid of the absolutely gutting image of the crumbling facade of coldness and composure from Zelda Spellman’s face, just to give way to pain.

The fresh memory of her own strangled voice reverberated in her mind.

_I love you._


	2. How Could I Have Known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst continues.

_ “How could I have known _

_ You were the one for me? _

_ How could I have known _

_ You were the air I breathe _

_ If I don't believe in love?” _

~ ‘how could I have known’ by Keaton Henson

*****

To an outsider, the room might give off an impression of being completely quiet. But not to her. The rhythmic ticking of a clock filling the walls of the cottage. The bedsheet rustling beneath her as she rolled from side to side every fifteen minutes, not being able to find a comfortable position on the bed that seemed to be too big for her. Countless irritated sighs passing through her lips as time passed by. The cheerful chirping of birds outside the window. 

It was all too loud.

It was all too much.

The sounds hammered into her skull, almost making her nauseous. The room seemed too bright and cheerful. If the bedroom was to represent her inner state, everything would be screaming in agony, every available surface would be standing in flames. Instead, the setting was taunting her with its serenity.

But all of the deafening noises around her were still too quiet to cover up the sound of her own breaking… Well, not heart, surely. She was a demon, she didn’t have a heart for it to break, after all. And it was not "her own" either. It was Mary Wardwell's body. Everything in it, every weak particle belonged to the silly mortal teacher.

Yes, Lilith blamed Mary Wardwell’s body for all of the aches she's been experiencing since that awful night. How was she to know that the absence of Zelda Spellman in her life would leave a jarring hole in Mary’s chest? She wasn’t sad, of course. No, Lilith, the First Woman, the Dawn of Doom, the… The point is, she wasn’t sad, she was furious. Yes, that was it. The vast emptiness and coldness spreading through her bones were certainly a result of fury coursing through her veins ever since Zelda decided to dramatically storm out of the cottage all those weeks ago.

Not being able to stand to lay down any second longer she pulled herself into a sitting position with an annoyed sigh. The sky outside of the window was gradually turning paler and paler. The sun was about to rise above the horizon at any second now. The woods in front of her cottage were still dark but she could sense the animals waking up from their slumber to face the day. She knew that she had to do the same but the perspective of starting the day and going back to Mary Wardwell’s sad life, full of hormone-ridden teenagers, was not inviting.

A new feeling, one that tasted a lot like an irritation, managed to break through the wall of emotions stirring in her stomach as she padded across the room towards the bathroom. One would think, after dragging Sabrina by the hand onto the path of Darkness, she’d earn the privilege of going back home to the pits of Hell. That she’d deserve to sit at His side, with a shining crown on top of her head. And yet, a month had passed and Lilith was still rotting in Greendale, with the last words of her late familiar ringing at the back of her head, pretending to be Mary Wardwell and still keeping an eye on the ungrateful half-breed.

The silk robe slid off of her shoulders and fell onto the cold white tiles that covered the bathroom’s floor. She stepped into the shower, letting the running water trickle down her body. Turning her face towards the warm stream, hoping she could drown, she closed her eyes.

A glimpse of alabaster skin flashed behind her eyelids. A sigh escaped her mouth as a phantom feeling of lips pressed to the skin of her neck transported her into the past.

“Stop it,” she hummed and her voice reverberated from the shower walls. Wet hands gripped her waist, backing her up against the wall as hot water traveled down their bodies.

“Hm?” Lilith found it hard to concentrate when the woman worked on something that could only be a very visible hickey on her neck. She gently pushed Zelda away with her hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore the small pout gracing her lips and how adorable she looked.

As much as she enjoyed the feeling of Zelda’s naked body pressed flush against hers, and as much as she wanted to ravish her again, she had to be the responsible one, for once. She had places to be, a certain High Priest to torture, she couldn’t let herself be distracted by the Spellman woman. And Hilda was sure to question Zelda if she was to miss breakfast, not that Lilith cared about that.

“I’d love to make you scream again, but we don’t have time for that,” she said, grabbing a sponge from the items lining up the wall and without a second thought started to swipe it across Zelda’s chest. “You’re gonna slip and break your neck, and then I’ll have to explain to your family how it happened.”

“Oh, to be a fly on that wall,” a carefree chuckle slipped past Zelda’s lips as she took the bottle of shampoo and squeezed some of it out onto her hand. She moved closer to Lilith and started to massage the shampoo into her scalp. The hand holding the sponge froze on Zelda’s arm while Lilith’s brain started to melt at the feeling of the woman’s fingers playing with her hair. 

“A ghost, more like,” Lilith scoffed, trying to focus once more on the task at hand. She swiped the sponge along Zelda’s arms, connecting the constellations of freckles on her skin.

“You think I’d return as a ghost?”

“I’d say you’re stubborn enough for that,” she grinned mischievously.

“Why, thank you,” Zelda lowered her voice, practically purring into her ear, “I’ll make sure to torment you once I’m back.”

A shiver ran down her spine as the images filled her brain. A melodic laugh bounced off of the shower walls and she couldn’t help the genuine smile that bloomed on her face. Soft hands pushed her under the water stream to rinse out the shampoo from her hair.

Forcing her mind to snap out of her memories she opened her eyes and found herself alone in the shower, braced against the wall. The silence of the room, interrupted only by the sound of running water, pressed against her ears, deafening her with its force. Ignoring the excruciating longing filling her chest, cursing Mary Wardwell’s body to Heaven, she exhaled deeply.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. What was done was done, she knew that, so why for Satan’s sake was her mind so adamant about torturing her with the images of the annoying Spellman and their time together? Once again she blamed the weakness of Mary’s heart. Surely, it was a mortal thing. Some sickness or other.

Anger rose in her chest as she started to clean herself in the now-cold water. She was Lilith, the First Woman, The Dawn of Doom, and Zelda Spellman, a simple witch, no matter how self-assured, should be worshipping her on her knees. She should be bowing down to her, begging her for mercy. But of course, she reminded herself, no-one knew who was hiding inside of Mary Wardwell’s skin. How was Zelda to know she was disrespecting the future Queen of Hell?

Rinsing the shampoo out of her hair she promised to herself that once the crown was resting peacefully on her head, she’d make Zelda beg for forgiveness for her actions.

In a slightly better mood, she dried her skin with a fluffy towel, wrapped it around herself, and stepped out of the bathroom, letting out the clouds of steam into the bedroom. The morning sky outside the window managed to turn pale blue during her time in the shower. The cold wind kept swinging the trees in the forest surrounding the cottage.

She has hoped that the task of dressing herself would occupy her mind with something else than the infuriating redhead, but unfortunately, it didn’t require a lot of focus on her part. The movements of the whole process became mechanical, occupying only her hands, leaving her thoughts free to roam. It came as no surprise to her that her thoughts immediately turned towards the other witch.

Frustrated with herself she sat down at the vanity to apply her make-up. She looked at the mirror in front of her and was met with her own gaze. The dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips, magically dried hair framing her face.

Pursing her lips with displeasure, she reached out her hand, not really caring about what she was about to grab when her eye caught a glimpse of something that piqued her curiosity. Her eyebrows furrowed when she recognized the item to be a tube of lipstick that she was sure didn’t belong to her. For a second she thought it might have belonged to Mary, but upon closer inspection, it became clear  _ who _ was the owner of the item.

It was Zelda’s lipstick. One she has left behind, probably on the last night they have spent together. She remembered how that particular shade looked on her lips. And then how it looked smeared together with her own shade of red. Her trembling fingers closed around the tube, hiding it from view, her fingernails digging painfully into her palm. A stabbing pain shot through her body, forcing her to inhale sharply. Cold chills kept running up and down her spine.

With horror, she realized there was something wet running down her face and that her vision became blurred. She looked at herself in the mirror and was terrified to discover that there were tears on her blotched cheeks, escaping from the red-rimmed eyes. An invisible hand gripped her throat making it nearly impossible for her to breathe.

Gradually, and then all at once, understanding has dawned on her.

The longing, the sadness, the anger that she kept feeling throughout the month apart from the other witch… It wasn’t the malfunctioning body of the mortal teacher that was the cause of the mixture of feelings. It was Lilith. Yes, the body might not belong to her, but it was filled with Lilith’s feelings, with her thoughts, with her own pain. Once that thought became conscious, once it hit her with full force, there was no stopping of the tears.

She thought she had lied. That damned night when it all went to shit, she was sure she had lied. They both did. After all, wasn’t that the reason for Zelda to storm off like that? But they were both mistaken. The realization was like a slap in the face. She didn’t lie.

But still, it was too late to correct that.

What was she supposed to do? Run out of the cottage and sprint towards the Spellmans’ house? Breathlessly knock on the door, face the witch, and… And what? Confess her feelings? No. Even if she was to do all that, Zelda was in love with  _ Mary _ , not  _ Lilith _ . And Lilith couldn’t reveal her identity. It would earn her nothing more than even more heartbreak, she was sure of it. And pain, of course, once Lucifer found out what she’d done.

One more realization dawned on her, causing a block of ice to drop in her stomach. She couldn’t confess to Zelda. Not now. Not ever. Because once Lucifer would sniff out her feelings towards the witch, they were both as good as dead.

She met her own gaze in the mirror. The teary eyes stared back at her, wide open and full of terror.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, did you think it was gonna be a happy fic? Think again.  
> Leave comments and kudos!


End file.
